


Hold On/Let Go

by whatodo



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Acceptance, Adopted Children, Aging, Android Politics, Canada, Character Death, Death, Deviancy (Detroit: Become Human), Deviants (Detroit: Become Human), Families of Choice, Family, Family Feels, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Found Family, Gen, Growing Old, Human!Alice AU, Light Angst, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Motherhood, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Post-Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), kara and luther are only slash if you squint, there's definitely no connor and hank slash, they take care of alice as parents however, this is a fix-it fic (kind of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 00:17:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17032656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatodo/pseuds/whatodo
Summary: Kara and Luther made it across the U.S.-Canada border with Alice. They are starting a new life. Markus calls, pushing tirelessly for legislation that recognizes androids' rights. Connor visits, looking for forgiveness. Kara learns how it helps and hurts to hold on, until she has to let go.A series of snapshots in the life of Kara, a free deviant, and her family.





	Hold On/Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to the fix-it fic!
> 
>  
> 
> i wrote this to help my discomfort with the “plot twist” of alice being an android. (is it a plot twist if i guessed it as soon as kara ran away with alice?) i feel like it was obvious, cheap, and didn’t move the story. i disliked how luther, kara, and alice are stuck as a forever static android family. what was the point of all those times they had to care for alice when she got cold or hungry? and it negated whatever understanding kara gave markus after he asked, “why are you protecting her?”
> 
>  
> 
> me: [putting my one (1) band-aid on the sinking ship that is dbh] there we go.
> 
> boat: [as stated previously, sinking]
> 
> me: huh.
> 
>  
> 
> this has big alternating chunks of description and dialogue and a simple plot. it's just a series of moments in kara's life with the common motif of holding on/letting go.
> 
>  
> 
> this is not beta'd, so if you find any errors and feel kind enough, let me know. regardless, enjoy.

Time is such a nebulous concept, if you looked at it like a human. Kara decided to, just for the moment. She imagined fans whirring inside of her, like in those old computers, as she felt something akin to a headache come on. Perhaps this was why humans were so angry all the time. There was so much they didn’t understand.

How did Alice see time? She was just a little girl, after all. She wasn’t angry, even though she had every right to be—at her father, at the world, at the injustices her found-family faced. She was strong, strong enough to let go of the heavy weight of anger at injustice. The alternative was too painful, Kara supposed.

Humans were fragile too, but Kara forgot it sometimes. It was surprisingly easy, despite spending the majority of her life serving one, and Todd was as fragile as they came. Violent, insecure, and teetering frighteningly fast between manic euphoria and sluggish depression—only spurred on by his red ice addiction—Kara would classify him as a very weak individual, in both will and physicality. Not that it took much strength to beat your petrified nine-year-old daughter.

Alice was a different kind of fragile, one that Kara felt honored to be responsible for. She needed food and shelter and clean clothes just like Todd, but she also needed love, something that Kara was more than happy to provide. This fierce maternal love was what broke down her red wall, after all.

She turned her head to the sound of Alice squealing in shrill delight at the giant wave Luther had clapped in her direction, all in self-defense, of course. She smiled, lifting her chin and closing her eyes to soak in the few rays of sun peeking through the overcast sky. The weather above reminded her of a watery tea, especially with the smell of wild peppermint a few feet behind her. With her toes dipped her toes in the clear, cold stream, and Luther now trying to catch the little fish they had suddenly discovered sharing their water, she basked in their little slice of paradise. Well, paradise might be a stretch, but it was the happiest she’d been in a long time, even with constant presence of mosquitos, especially around Alice, warm-blooded as she was. It was the beginning of July, just a few months after they had somehow made it across the border, the three of them, alive, together. They were in an isolated cabin, old pine log walls and wood-fed stove speaking of an era long ago. They had slowly—so as not do draw suspicion, despite their seemingly successful escape—made their way out from US-Canada border at Detroit to Toronto, then Montreal, Quebec City, followed QC-138 until they didn’t, and ended up here, somewhere deep in the rural Quebec province. Kara had bused tables and other odd jobs in the cities and Luther was mostly hired as a farmhand in the country when it came time for barley and other oilseeds to be harvested.

Despite the processing power in Luther’s operating system, he only managed to let one of the fish slip through his broad fingers, prompting Alice to try her luck. She didn’t do much better of course, especially now that most were hiding in a deeper part of the river, farther from the shallow rocky bay they had claimed for the time being.

Shivering, Alice turned to Kara. “I’m cold,” she announced.

Pulling her feet out from the edge of the water, Kara headed towards the picnic basket on a tree stump 23.4 meters away. “Let’s get you a towel then, sweetie.”

Now adequately bundled up, Alice waddled over to Luther, who had taken a seat on a huge, old trunk running parallel to the shore. Laughing loudly, Luther asked who this “little pig-in-a-blanket” was.

“I’m not a little piggy, I’m a little girl!” Alice protested.

Still laughing, now with Alice, Kara watched as Luther silently put an arm around her. Luther had begun to shed his gentle giant persona recently, showing a louder and spontaneously joyous side that Kara hadn’t expected. She had the sneaking suspicion that Luther hadn’t been able to act like this in a long time, perhaps never. It made her thorium-pump quicken by a few beats, fill her circuits with a pleasant hum.

She stayed there for a moment, breathing—something entirely superfluous—being—something entirely new and necessary. She then joined them, and they held this beautiful moment between them, listening to the Virginia rail birds in the rushes and watching the trumpeter swans drift across the lake. Ra9 inside, was it good to be awake and alive.

* * *

“You must be the hardest android to get a hold of, you mink.” Kara’s words might be lighthearted, but they rang true. You try getting a call back from the leader of an ongoing revolution.

“Is this a promotion from last week’s ‘weasel’?” Markus teased back. This was their third time talking since they made it to Canada. The first one had been short but filled with tears and profuse thanks.

Kara had been finding new ways to fill in her new abundance of free time. One of them was watching the local wildlife outside of their cabin. She supplemented this with research from books, real books, that were tucked under the musty bed that she and Luther sometimes pretended to sleep on. Completely unnecessary, she knew, to read, when there was always the much quicker and more logical option of accessing the internet, but she enjoyed it.

 _Neovison vison_ , or the North American mink, was her current topic of research.

Smiling to himself in his office in the slowly renovating, formerly abandoned church, he continued, “It really is good to hear from you, Kara. How’s Alice?”  
She stopped fiddling with her gloves and looked up to see Alice playing with two other children on an obnoxiously yellow playset. “She’s doing very well. Playing with two new friends as we speak. I was just calling back to tell you that I got a job. It’s nothing flash—"

“Kara, that’s wonderful!”

“Let me finish, will you?” she laughed. “It’s nothing flashy, just a barista in a small café, but apparently their double chocolate mochas are the best, so tips are good.” She allowed herself to smile at the mental image of Markus silently holding his breath listening to her, chastising himself for his rudeness. “Luther is still looking, but he thinks he could get a job as a manager at this trucking business here. He’s really interested in business. Of course, owning his own business is a long way off, but it’s a step. I’ve heard that the legislation is slow-going for DACRA.”

“Is that what they’re calling it? It’s certainly shorter than ‘Deviant Android Civil Rights Act of 2038’.” Markus sighed. “Yes, humans are slow to change, but that’s not exactly a surprise. We are undeniable however, and we’ve made our message heard loud and clear. I’m surprised that no one has contacted you actually, to get you to join a local Jericho chapter.” He was referring to the Jericho Cooperative. Markus had christened their group recently and re-stated their official goal at a conference with the President but a few days prior: Complete equality and integration between androids and humans in all spheres. They had reached out to other similar organizations across the globe.

Kara fidgeted with the hem of her sweater under her coat. “Well, we want to keep a low profile. Getting a job is risky enough, and we don’t know how our bosses will react if we tell them that we’re androids. Without any official legal status here, it’s too risky. We could be sent back if we make too much of a scene.”

“Is there any immediate danger?”

“No, no. I mean, the border agent let us in knowing who we were, thanks to your peaceful demonstration. And we’ve found a welcoming neighborhood here.” Kara brightened her voice, “Our neighbors—well, neighbors is a bit generous, they’re 2 kilometers away—even invited Alice over for sledding and hot cocoa. They’ve made clear that they don’t intend to say anything, despite knowing who we are.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Kara, really.” A muffled voice came into the background with Markus. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but—”  


“Duty calls,” she offered.

“Does it ever,” he muttered. “I look forward to our next chat, although I can’t say that it will be soon. Legislation is an arduous business, especially with something as unprecedented as this.”

“We understand completely, Markus. Thank you, again. Good luck.”

“Oh, Kara?”

“Yes?”

“Just, hold on, okay? We will get this act through, and I’m certain that other countries will follow suit once they see the U.S. lead by example. Don’t hesitate to call me or that local chapter that I mentioned if anything comes up, and I mean _anything_. I hope that I can be the first to welcome you back.”

“Thank you, Markus,” she whispered, eyes still on Alice. “Take care.”

Kara ended the call with a flutter of eyelashes. She reached for Luther hand resting on the park bench. She caught Luther’s gaze. In it, she found a love as strong as hers, for Alice, for him, for their family.

* * *

Alice was at her neighbor’s house, sledding, again, when Kara heard the knock on the door. Kara shuddered a sigh, smoothed her skirt, and opened the door.

Connor’s eyes, the same shade of brown as when they had stared her down from the other side of that fence only years ago, met hers.  
Fear coiled around her internal wiring, suffocating, but Kara ignored it. That Connor is gone. The man standing before her today is his own person, no longer bound to anyone's command except his.

Smiling, Kara welcomed him inside. She bit back the instinct to offer a drink, used to entertaining her human neighbors. Instead, spontaneously, she gave him an offer.

“Care to join me on a walk? There’s a beautiful spot that I have in mind.”

Connor blinked. “I’d love that.”

Rocks crunching underneath, she laid down an ugly orange and brown blanket. Kara patted the spot beside her and Connor took a seat.

They sat for a while. Awkwardness was something that Connor almost had to work to recognize unless he was actively analyzing someone, Kara knew, so she let them sit side-by-side without breaking the silence. It was nice, she concluded.

Kara looked at Connor. A long, thoughtful look.

He turned his head and looked back.

She felt something build in her throat. Mirth crinkled in the corners of her eyes.

Connor’s eyes were just filled with confusion, unsure.

Unable to hold it back, she giggled.

Smiling, Connor asked, “What?”

Kara let out a snort from behind her cupped hand.

“No, really, what? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no,” Kara managed. She let herself laugh for a minute or so. Wiping a hand across her face only to through it in the air dramatically, she said, “I don’t know. It’s just… this. It’s… nice. I didn’t know how today was going to turn out, but this is better than I expected. I don’t know, you know?”

“No. I am completely lost.”

Kara smiled. “Me too. Isn’t it nice?”

Except she wasn’t, and neither was he. She had found her family, and he had found his, even if it included a dog.

She turned back to the lake. Connor did the same. A swan drifted into view from behind a clump of plants.

“I forgive you.”

Connor didn’t move.

“That wasn’t you. Before. No one asked you if you wanted to do that. You weren’t given a choice. I won’t deny that you hurt me and Alice," she says, thinking of soothing Alice back to sleep from nightmares, of men chasing her, of Kara dying. "It’s been hard, but I’ve let go. I’d like to learn about who you are now.”

Putting an arm gently around his shaking shoulder, they sat together in that silence again. She didn’t mention the tears.

* * *

Alice had just turned 143 last spring. Her two best friends were 142 and 145 but in much better shape. They had just gone back to their own families yesterday, wiping away tears as they left Alice's room. Kara is fairly certain that the abuse sustained from Todd has a lot to do with her deteriorating health, comparatively. Alice was currently propped up in bed, smiling at the entrance of her family. An angry snowstorm was picking up outside.

“Kara,” she croaked. “Luther.”

Replacing her urge to cry with a bittersweet smile, Kara said, “Hi Alice. Did you get the fruit basket?”

Raising a spindly hand, she motioned behind the hospital curtain. Luther pulled it back, showing a near perfect basket of assorted fruit kebabs, save for some nibbling. “No pineapple.”

“No pineapple,” Kara agreed. Alice had never liked pineapple. It was “too spicy,” she once complained. Kara remembered, of course.

Neither of them asked how she was feeling. Alice had gently told them to stop a while ago. It was always the same. She was suffering, and it was time to let go. In Kara's eyes, she saw the same strong little girl that she had carried this far, so long ago. Luther felt the same urge to protect her, but in this regard, in the face of death, he couldn’t hide her away, couldn’t fight for her.

They had filled her journey this far with love and warmth, but Alice had to walk down this part alone. They were as sorrowful as any human family member ever could be.

Alice’s husband had left the room a couple of hours ago, taking his children and their children with him to a nearby restaurant. Hospital food had improved greatly since Canada had adopted a law similar to DACRA a decade prior and androids began working for wages in all sectors, including healthcare and cuisine.

Luther pulled out a chair for Kara. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

It wasn’t fair, she decided, tears forming. She didn’t understand, she concluded, hand clutching Alice’s, a feeble bird. There was so much she didn’t understand, still. Why did humans have to die?

Her internal logic dryly informed her that everything ended. Even Luther and her would eventually fail, memory becoming so corrupted, operating system becoming so outdated, weight of living with the burden of her baby dying becoming so heavy, that she simply would stop moving.

They couldn’t all fit in the room, not all twenty-something of them, and with it being as late as it was, even Alice’s husband had left with a soft peck on her cheek hours earlier. Kara’s internal clock told her it was 3:29 am, local time.

She straightened from brushing Alice’s hair away from her face. Luther did the same from the other side of her bed.

Alice’s eyes, puffy with old age, were open now as well.

Smiling softly at them, wrinkles folding deeper into well-worn lines, she said, “I love you both. So, so much.”

And eyes wet with tears, she took a deep breath

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and never let go.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a comment telling me what you thought of this story!
> 
> i listened to the playlists "'do you hear the people sing?'" and "kara" by that_nerd_called_erma_ on spotify a lot when writing this. they're really good.
> 
> "do you hear the people sing?"  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/that_nerd_called_erma_/playlist/3k6vPLbajghTCnPIQI5gaA?si=XVqd_D03TNOu_ejUrPncnQ
> 
> kara  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/that_nerd_called_erma_/playlist/6CPUji6SXydWH2z8CrMJcF?si=Khnn9MScRLKeVFTVADe9KQ
> 
> reference for kara, luther, and alice's cabin  
> https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/1531169?location=West%20Nipissing%2C%20Canada&s=cE_4P_kc


End file.
